


Ollie's

by Westgate (Harkpad)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clint is slow on the uptake, Fluff, M/M, Phil's not, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 00:28:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4982791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harkpad/pseuds/Westgate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint buys Phil some coffee to get him through the end of a long project. Phil's request to take Clint out to breakfast in return throws Clint off his game. It also makes him blush furiously. Phil likes that, apparently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ollie's

**Author's Note:**

> for a tumblr prompt that got way too long.

“You wanna hit the coffee shop on the corner real quick? You need a break,” Clint said, and he leaned over with his hands on Phil’s desk. He didn’t pull the muscle card very often anymore, but he needed to get Phil out of the office, and nothing else seemed to be working. Clint figured maybe the mere psychological suggestion of intimidation might work. He never knew, though, how Phil Coulson would react to him.

Phil setting his pen down to the side very carefully before letting his head slam onto the desk dramatically wasn’t what he expected, though. “I definitely need a break,” Phil mumbled through the papers his mouth was pressed against. “I need, like, a three-week break.”

They had been working on a rewrite of the training program for recruits for two months, and the last few weeks had been non-stop punctuated only by a handful of day or two missions. The missions felt kinda like a vacation to Clint, but he figured he was weird like that.

“Maybe we’ll get another mission later today,” he said, trying to be helpful.

Phil just groaned and burrowed his head on the paper some more.

“Coffee, instead?” Clint asked. He knocked his knuckles against Phil’s desk. “Phil, hey. You can’t sleep here, and it’s only ten-thirty in the morning. Work to do and all that.”

Phil didn’t move.

“Come on, man,” Clint pled. “I know a place. We’ll go there instead of the corner, and it’ll end up being, like, a thirty minute break instead of ten. Extra walk down the street. The weather’s great and you’ll feel better.” He was starting to worry. Phil Coulson didn’t tire out.

Clint remembered the first time they worked together and Phil (back then he was ‘Coulson,’ before Clint hit his level and also hit upon a kick-ass work-friendship in a very unlikely guy) ran tac support from a van in the middle of a crowded street in Milan for twenty-two hours straight. Then he changed positions, re-analyzed the mission, and worked another fifteen before he finally gave the kill order to Clint and worked evac right after. Clint thought he was dealing with a medically enhanced human at that point. He’d accused Phil of being a super-hero and got a blush, a shrug, and a ‘I have really good endurance, is all’ in reply.

Now Phil finally pushed himself back from his desk, ran a hand through already tousled hair, and looked up blearily at Clint. “You know a place?” he asked, and blinked slowly. “Is the coffee strong? I think I need some really strong coffee.”

Clint laughed and nodded, and stepped back as Phil pulled his suit coat back on and pushed Clint toward his office door like Clint was the one being a slow-assed zombie. Clint told him as much and Phil just said he’d had brains for lunch last week and didn’t need any more for a while. Coffee and a walk would do.

The air outside the office was crisp and cool with the leafy smell of autumn, and Phil’s shoulders relaxed a bit one block into their walk. By the time they got to the tiny, hole-in-the-wall shop a few blocks away he was smiling and actually carrying on a conversation with Clint. Clint liked it. He loved taking Phil for coffee, actually. It was one way he could get Phil out of the office alone without making up some weird excuse.

They didn’t socialize outside of work despite the ember-like wish Clint carried around in his chest. Clint had gotten very good at ignoring small wishes throughout his life. It wasn’t a big deal. He enjoyed Phil’s company and took the opportunity to enjoy it whenever he could. In their line of work it was actually a decent amount.

The shop was small, and it always made Clint think of what a grandmother’s living room was supposed to feel like if he’d ever had the chance to feel that. There were a handful of tables with tiffany lamps on them, and a couple of worn couches with long, oak coffee tables in front of them and two or three lamps apiece on those as well. Clint always thought the shards of colored lights from the lamps made the place seem a little like a fairyland. He also always let out a deep exhale as soon as the door to the shop closed behind him. When he had any time off, he’d bring a ratty old paperback with him and sink into one of them for a couple of hours.

“Wow,” Phil said as the door shut behind them.

Clint looked at him and grinned as he took in the place. “You don’t get to sit on those couches today, Phil, but keep this place in mind the next time you can sit down without falling straight to sleep.”

Phil looked at a couch and then back to Clint, and Clint was startled by the puppy-dog pleading face Phil was able to pull off. He’d never seen it before, and he thought he’d seen all of Phil’s looks. Now his blue eyes were wide and he was blinking deliberately and Clint really wanted to shove him down on one of the couches and kiss him senseless. He sucked in a sharp breath and clamped his jaw shut at that thought. It was new, but astoundingly welcome.

“Just for a minute, Clint?” Phil implored. “I won’t fall asleep.” He looked back to the couch and then back to Clint. “They look reaaaly comfortable.”

Fuck, but Clint really wanted to kiss him. “Fine. Sit down. If you fall asleep, though, I’m taking a picture for the bulletin board in the break room on your floor.” He couldn’t hold in a laugh as Phil nodded eagerly and slid over to one of the couches.

“I won’t. Oh my god,” Phil said, as he leaned back into the couch. “This is like a cloud from heaven or something.” He smiled up at Clint like he was having the best time of his life, and Clint may have lost a few seconds staring at his delighted face. “Clint?” Phil asked, and Clint blinked himself away from the fantasy that was just deciding to barge in on Clint’s life like an obnoxious but endearing roommate.

“I’m gonna get coffee,” he said.

“Gimme a minute,” Phil replied, and he closed his eyes. “I’ll get mine in a minute.”

Clint watched as Phil relaxed, and he knew Phil wasn’t hopping up for coffee any time soon. He wandered up to the counter alone and ordered two of the house specials, paid for them, and fixed Phil’s the way he knew Phil loved. Clint was a black coffee drinker himself, so when he finished doctoring Phil’s up almost beyond recognition, he went back to the couch.

Phil wasn’t asleep, but it was a close thing. Clint kicked his shoe and he started upright. “I wasn’t sleeping,” he said, but Clint could hear in his voice how relaxed he’d gotten.

“Coffee,” Clint said, holding up the cups. “And we should probably get back to the office.”

The walk back was brisk and quiet, as Phil drank his coffee and Clint ignored his own in favor of stealing glances of Phil drinking his coffee. It was like Clint was seeing him in a whole new light. His body wouldn’t stop thrumming at the thought of Phil, and Clint wasn’t sure what the hell to do with it. Sure, he’d thought about it before – come on, Phil was hot as hell – but he’d never been so goddamned _preoccupied_ with it before.

They were riding the elevator back up to Phil’s office when Phil suddenly looked over at Clint and said, “You bought my coffee.” He said it like it was just occurring to him, and he cocked his head at Clint like he was seeing him different, too.

Clint tried to hide it, but he could feel a blush stealing across his face. “Yeah, it’s no big deal. I think you were too tired to navigate purchasing procedures at that point. I just saved you the embarrassment.”

Phil frowned a little and Clint got distracted by the way his lips moved, fuck, and only caught the tail end of Phil’s ‘Thank you. I probably did need the help.”

“No problem,” Clint replied, and he was grateful that the elevator chose that moment to open at Phil’s floor.

They spent the rest of the morning finishing up the rewrites, and Clint spent a lot of it very carefully not thinking about the way Phil’s fingers held a pen or the way his mouth curved in concentration, or the easy trust Phil showed in asking for Clint’s input and advice on the finishing touches. Clint thought Phil caught him staring once or twice, but hopefully Phil was too tired to notice.

He wasn’t.

After a long day and finally passing the months-long report onto Fury’s desk for his review, Phil stood up from his desk and moved to his couch.

Clint didn’t let him sit down, though. “Nope,” he said. “You’re heading to your quarters to get some sleep. I almost lost you to a coffee-house couch today, Phil. You’re not on top of your game.”

Phil stopped and chuckled, and dropped his head. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“I’ll walk you to your rooms,” Clint’s traitorous mouth said. “I don’t want to find you curled in a heap in the hallway tomorrow morning,” he added with a shrug. Smooth. He was being so fucking smooth.

Phil nodded and sighed. “Okay. I’ll take you up on it.”

They walked in silence again, and the sidelong glances Clint stole went unnoticed, he thought, thanks to Phil’s exhaustion. When they got to his door, he keyed it open and turned back to Clint. The circles under his eyes were black as night, and he looked like Clint could probably push him over with his pinky finger.

“Thanks, Clint,” Phil said quietly. He met Clint’s gaze. He gave Clint a small smile and said, “Can I pick you up tomorrow morning once we’re both awake?”

Clint was confused. He wasn’t as tired as Phil, but he still felt fuzzy, and he might’ve been a little distracted by Phil’s smile. “What?” he asked.

“Tomorrow. Maybe around ten-thirty? I thought I’d take you down to Ollie’s Diner once we’re both vertical again.”

Clint was startled, and he felt his pulse quicken for some weird reason. Ollie’s was his favorite breakfast place. It was busy but friendly, and was a place that, once the doors shut out the traffic sounds of the city, could fool him into feeling like he was back home, in the Midwest. He loved it, but he’d never gone with Phil and had never told him about his fixation with it. “Why?” he asked.

Phil chuckled, and then reached out to touch Clint’s shoulder, a feather touch that was gone as quickly as Clint felt it. “Because you bought me coffee, took care of me today, and I want to spend some downtime with you, off the clock and away from business.”

Clint didn’t know what to say. He opened his mouth to tell Phil it was no big deal, that Phil didn’t have to take him out because Clint was being nice to him, that Phil probably had better things to do with his day off than spend it with Clint. He didn’t say those things, though, because Phil interrupted him.

“And because you blushed when I realized you’d bought my coffee, and you haven’t stopped staring at me since, and,” he paused and pulled in a deep breath, “Because I’d like to spend some time staring at you in return.” He smiled that confident, kind smile that Clint loved so much, and it made Clint blush again.

“You want,” he started, but he didn’t know how to finish, so he just blinked in his confusion.

“I want you to go get some sleep,” Phil said. “I want to get some sleep, and then I’d like to take you to your favorite place for breakfast and enjoy being with you off the clock. If you enjoy it, too, maybe we could keep doing it, and other things as we see fit.”

Clint’s brain got stuck on one part of Phil’s statement. “Other things?”

Phil reached out and gave Clint a playful shove away from the door. “Sleep, Clint. Go sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow. We’ll figure it out from there.”

Clint nodded and puffed out a breath. “Okay. Tomorrow. Good night, Phil,” he said, and stepped back into the hallway. “Tomorrow,” he repeated, and walked backwards a few steps so he could show himself that yes, Phil was really watching him leave with a wide smile on his face. “Tomorrow we’ll eat and drink coffee and discuss Other Things. Sounds good.” He gave Phil a wave and turned to head back to his own rooms.

He let Phil’s smile and promise of breakfast and Other Things carry him to sleep that night. It was a good night’s sleep.


End file.
